Hello, everyone! This is my first fanfic EVER, so I would LOVE lots of reviews to see what you all think! I hope it's not terrible, hehe... I haven't been writing stories in probably 2-3 years, so I'm probably a bit rusty, not to mention the totally new dynamic of messing around with someone else's characters!

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. Except for Liam and Juliana, of course. :)

Prologue

Liam Henry swore. The work-calloused flesh of his right fist pounded against the rough-hewn wooden table as the memories flooded his consciousness once again.

He had heard the planes flying overhead. He had known it was a dangerous place in the world, and that it was no place to bring a five-year-old angel. But she had pled. And his wife had batted her doe-eyes at him, and he had said okay. She was running toward him, now, pushing open the doors to the building, screaming, "Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made you!" Despite the intuitive foreboding, he had smiled. Started walking faster, even. He heard the whistle of the dropping bomb, and his heart froze. Mind-numbing fear. He couldn't even scream her name—and she was none the wiser. The building she hadn't escaped was now engulfed in flames and debris, and it consumed her. She was gone.

She was gone.

As he stood to his feet, knocking back the old wooden chair, a strangled sound, a mixture between a groan and a cry, bubbled out of his mouth.

He paced around the room, at a loss for words. He finally sank onto the bed, and reached for the photograph setting on his nightstand. Juliana Eve Henry. Her smiling face beamed back at him. She had lost her first tooth, and he had never seen her more proud. Her blue eyes beamed back at him, and her soft red hair fell in tresses around her face like an angel's halo. And that smattering of freckles… She had always said, "Daddy, I hate my freckles. Can't you make them go away?" But he had loved them. They had given her spunk. And what were you without your spunk, me wee lassie? he thought, feeling his heart constrict.

Juliana had been like a sweet song in his heart. The one good thing he had ever done.

Then they had taken her away from him. America, with their misguided sense of hope, adventure, righteousness, and zeal. That zeal had gotten Juliana blown into a million pieces, so many it had been impossible to bury all of her.

Maybe America couldn't pay, but the team of four American soldiers who had discovered his road-side bombs (his first attempt at sweet revenge), concealed by dead carcasses, could. They would.

His eyes wandered back to the old computer screen. The report from the file was clear as day. The four names were a promise—his promise to Juliana. He would have his revenge.

His anger billowed in his chest, a raw, malignant cancer, growing each time he read each name, over and over. Zane Giovanni. An Italian American, no doubt. Probably loved pizza and movies and everything American. Avery Bennett. The file said that he had rescued countless children and mothers during his time in Iraq. Now ain't that precious? Liam thought bitterly. Probably was a momma's boy, considered a "good, ole American hero," too. Gregory St. Nikolai. Rory. What kind of name was that? And how was it possible for a saint to keep him from revenging the death of the sweetest baby girl in the world?

He read the last name. August Anderson. And what was this? Wounded by one of the bombs? Blinded?

Well, wasn't revenge sweet. Maybe there was some hope for Juliana's legacy, after all.

I don't really want to be one of those writers that craves reviews, but I really want to know what you all think. Review? Pretty please?